


A Very Lovely Christmas Morning

by afteriwake



Series: Love Is Like [13]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Breakfast, Christmas, Cooking, F/M, Foreplay, Morning After, Neck Kissing, Seductive Banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:57:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4788059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas morning dawns and Molly attempts to surprise Sherlock with breakfast in bed, but he spoils it by coming out before she’s finished. He more than makes it up to her, however.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Lovely Christmas Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MagsyB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagsyB/gifts).



> So my Tumblr followers voted on which fic I should work on next and it was 2 to 1 for the next installment of this series, so here you go! Inspired by an old **imagineyourotp** prompt (" _Imagine your OTP standing in the kitchen the morning after. Person B's making pancakes wearing only their underwear and Person A's old baggy shirt. Person A then hugs Person B from behind and Person B playfully complains that the pancakes will burn if Person A keeps distracting him/her._ ")

She stretched languidly in bed, enjoying the feel of her sheets against her bare skin. There hadn’t been any point in bothering to put on pyjamas, they’d realized after they’d been rather frisky in the shower. There had been a brief rest when they got into the bed but soon enough hands were roaming and lips were exploring and she was returning the favor for the earth shattering orgasms he’d given her in the hall but before she could finish he’d had her remove her mouth from his shaft and stay on her knees while he took her from behind. That had been another rather delicious experience and one day very soon she was going to ask him just how he came to be so skilled.

He seemed to be asleep still so she slowly and quietly got out of bed. Present opening could wait for a bit, but she could make coffee, at the very least, and perhaps if he stayed in bed long enough surprise him with breakfast in bed. She went to her dresser, wincing slightly at the tenderness between her thighs and the soreness of muscles she hadn’t used in some time as she walked, and got a fresh pair of knickers out, slipping them on. She looked around for something to wear and spotted the baggy T-shirt from his university he had left at her flat to wear with his pyjama bottoms. She doubted he’d mind and so she picked it up and slipped it on over her head. Once she was dressed to her satisfaction she made her way out to the kitchen.

Neither of them had turned the Christmas tree lights off after Sherlock turned them on while he was waiting for her to come home, nor, she realized, had they put last night’s dinner away. She hated to waste the food but some of it was simply no good and in the end she just tossed out the whole lot. If there had been anything Sherlock had especially wanted she’d treat him to lunch next time they were both at Barts at the same time. Once that was taken care of she picked up her elastic hair band off the table, pulled her hair back into some approximation of a bun, and went into the kitchen to start coffee and breakfast.

It didn’t take long to start the coffee, and she waited until at least one cup was done before she started the pancake batter. She had some blackberries in her refrigerator that she’d bought as a treat for herself, along with some vanilla yoghurt, and so she decided to make blackberry vanilla yoghurt pancakes. She hummed to herself as she began measuring out ingredients for the batter and mixing them together, occasionally taking a sip of her coffee as she worked. When it was done she heated up the griddle and put the first three pancakes on.

She’d gone through half the batter when she heard him pad out from the bedroom, just moments before she felt him slide his arms around her as he embraced her from behind, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “You ruined my surprise,” she chided.

“I could always go back to bed,” he said, moving his head to the side and pressing a kiss to the side of her neck as he let one of his hands roam lower, skirting the bottom edge of his shirt and lifting it up slightly.

She shut her eyes for just a moment before pulling away. “They’re going to burn if you distract me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asked.

“Replacing good cookware is a pain,” she said, leaning back into him but opening her eyes and looking at the pancakes. “And the blackberries weren’t cheap.”

He stilled. “Blackberries? They’re blackberry pancakes?”

She nodded slightly. “Blackberry vanilla yoghurt pancakes. Why?”

“I haven’t had them in years,” he said. “They were a favorite.”

“Well, if you stop distracting me, I’ll make sure most of them don’t burn,” she said. “But you can take a plate of what’s already finished.”

He removed his hands and leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek before moving to get a plate. She had pulled down the maple syrup when she had the overly buttery first batch to sate her tremendous hunger and her pulled five pancakes off the plate that she was setting them on and put them on the new plate, then drizzled syrup on them. He went and got a fork after that and then leaned against the worktop and cut off a piece of the pancakes with the fork before eating it. He shut his eyes and let out a sigh of contentment. “Amazing.”

“Well, if you buy blackberries and vanilla yoghurt when we’re both going to have a leisurely morning in I’ll make them for you whenever you want,” she said with a smile. “Or perhaps for dinner, if you get a craving.”

“I will,” he said before taking another bite. She let him eat in peace as she paid attention to the rest of the pancakes. When she was done he refilled the plate and she had some more on her own plate, both of them leaning against the worktop. When they were done he cleaned their plates as well as the mixing bowl and measuring [equipment and the griddle when it cooled. She had thought she’d want to go open presents but the sight of him in nothing more than pyjama pants had gotten her rather hot and bothered, and when he was finishing up she went behind him, mimicking his embrace from earlier. “Yes?”

She let her hands slide down his abdomen till her hands were at the waistband of his pyjama pants, and she slipped her fingers of one hand under the waistband, brushing the short, curly hair there. “How badly do you want to open presents?” she asked.

“That depends,” he asked. “Are you one of my presents?”

She slipped her hand lower and felt that he was already starting to grow hard as her fingers brushed lightly against his shaft. “Only if you’re one of mine,” she said, pressing a kiss into his back.

“If you keep this up we may not make it to the bedroom,” he warned, moving his hips back into her to give her more space to move her hand.

“Well, so long as we make it to carpet I don’t mind,” she said.

“How do you feel about walls?” he asked.

Her mind flashed back to him licking and sucking her most intimate parts while she was pressed against a wall and she shivered in anticipation. “I have good feelings about walls,” she said, her voice husky. He began to turn and she removed her hand from inside his pyjama bottoms and when she saw the look on his face and the seductive grin she knew that it might be a _tad_ bit later than she had planned before she went into Barts this morning, and present opening might be put on hold till this evening.

But it would _definitely_ be worth it.


End file.
